


Wormy Nightmares and Sleepless Nights

by RedMononoke



Category: Supernatural
Genre: After Carthage, F/M, Short One Shot, season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-09-23 18:45:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9671357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedMononoke/pseuds/RedMononoke
Summary: This was part of a Series I was doing with another writer but things didn't work out between us. I removed their Character and had to change things around so it would kinda make sense. Sorry if it seems Hole'y.





	1. Chapter 1

Veruca woke up drenched in cold sweat, her heart was pounding like crazy. Vivid horrifying images, replay behind her eyelids. The nightmares started after the incident in Carthage. Jo and Ellen’s heart-wrenching faces were etched into her memory, the heavy smell of copper and burnt plastic still lingered in her clothes days after. They were nice people, Ellen was bit of hard-ass but she never spoke a harsh word towards her and Jo wasn’t so bad either but Veruca saw what she had with Dean and had seen their goodbye, she was ashamed of herself for feeling jealous towards a dying girl. Fear had been her bed-buddie the second she laid eye’s on the Devil himself. She felt defiant and furious in the beginning, but after these few weeks of constant hauntings by Satan, the thought of him made her tense. This constant feeling of grief and terror was burning away at her sanity.

Her heart laid in her stomach as she slipped her pale legs over the edge. Moonlight slipped through the curtains, illuminating her clammy face. She was dealing with the grief and guilt her own way. Her sobs echoed in the bathroom nextdoor when they reached the motel room the night they left Missouri. She let out a soft sigh as she moved from the bed to the pitch-black bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Grimacing at the sight of the dingy shower, she faced the sink, skeptically moving herself back as she turned the glass handle. A replay from the nightmare a couple nights ago of a leaches spewing out of the faucet gave her chills and Veruca didn't want to take any chances with the possibility she could still have her head on the pillow. She was tracking a witch case in Tennessee that led her to Huntingdon. It’s a quaint little town, but there was an ominous density in the air that sent chills down your spine. It just didn’t feel right.

Veruca splashed the seemingly clean water on her face, the brisk chill felt more like a slap on the face than a cool rush. She took a peek at herself while drying off and caught a glimpse of something dark in the corner of the mirror. Startled, she backed up against the door, clutching the damp towel close to her chest, adrenaline seized her heart. She expected to see the same tall tormentor, with his regular sadistic smirk. He’d snap his fingers and reveal the wall of maggots she was pressed up against or flood the room until she woke up gasping for air. But nothing was there, just her and her ragged breathing filling the air. Slumped against the door, she let  her head fall with a thump on the cheap wood; she felt like crying. A soft knock came from outside the door made her jump.

“Kid?” Leo’s voice grumbled.

Veruca didn't answer, stilled with shock as fear crept up her spine.

“Vee, what are you doing up?” he sounded irritated, “It’s nearly four in the morning.” the metal doorknob jiggled, turned and she fell with a hard thud, onto the gravy colored carpet. Veruca groaned as pulled herself off the ground. Her head shot up to the empty space of the dusty motel room. Exhausted, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes as she started pulling a new set of clean clothes out of her duffle bag and getting dressed. She scrunched up her nose at the stale smell of the room as she pulled her faded cherry-red leather jacket over her bruised shoulders.

Outside the unusually cool air prickled against her skin as the trees swayed, mimicking the sound of ocean waves; their shadows made her uneasy. They moved slower than should, like time slowed down. Shaking her head she thought, _I should eat, I’m getting loopy_. Thinking about the pizza place they saw on their drive to the motel made her stomach growl but it wouldn’t be open with the moon high in the sky. Pulling her jacket closed, she made her way to the car, shuffling through her keys before looking up. Her breath hitched when she saw the red glint of his eyes and that familiar wolfish grin.

 

Veruca rushed to get into her car, jumping in with a hard smack of the door that sent the old Toyota rocking back and forth. Jamming the key in the ignition, she looked back and he was gone. She hardly noticed how hard she was breathing, her heart drumming through her ribcage. Taking a deep breath as she rested her head against the steering wheel, she could feel a sob bubbling in her throat. She just wanted it all to stop but she was tired of pleading the universe to give her a break. Running a hand through her knotted hair as she leaned back, she looked wanly at the rosary that swayed from the rear view mirror; the way the light reflected off of Jesus’s grim expression seemed to pity her. Starting the engine, she drove out of the parking lot.

Veruca drove until her vision was blurred by frustrated tears. The windows were rolled down, the cool breeze calmed her down a bit as the hum of cicadas were drowned out by Cherry Waves whispering out of her stereo. When she passed Chet’s Pizza, static abruptly blared through the stereo, giving her a mini-heart attack as she pulled over and floundered to turn it off. She started sniffling and wiped the cool tears pooled at her chin, her back slapped against the leather seats. She flinched when his voice started out of thin air.

“You know,” Lucifer sat in the passenger seat with a folded map in his hands, his fingers trailed red lines, “you can’t run from me.” his gaze rises to meet her’s with that signature mischievous glint in his eyes.

“This isn’t real,” Veruca shut her eyes, gripping the steering wheel until her knuckles blossomed white, “you aren’t real.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” He leaned over getting close enough that she could feel his cold breath grazing her, “are you sure about that?”


	2. *Update* Original Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I got permission to post the original work. So here it is.

Veruca woke up drenched in cold sweat, her heart was pounding like crazy. Vivid horrifying images, replay behind her eyelids. The nightmares started after the incident in Carthage. Jo and Ellen’s heart-wrenching faces were etched into her memory, the heavy smell of copper and burnt plastic still lingered in her clothes days after. They were nice people, Ellen was bit of hard-ass but she never spoke a harsh word towards her and Jo wasn’t so bad either but Veruca saw what she had with Dean and had seen their goodbye, she was ashamed of herself for feeling jealous towards a dying girl. Fear had been her bed-buddie the second she laid eye’s on the Devil himself. She felt defiant and furious in the beginning, but after these few weeks of constant hauntings by Satan, the thought of him made her tense. This constant feeling of grief and terror was burning away at her sanity.

Her heart laid in her stomach as she slipped her pale legs over the edge. Makena was still fast asleep, moonlight slipped through the curtains, illuminating her dewy face. She was dealing with the grief her own way. Her sobs echoed in the bathroom when they reached the motel room the night they left Missouri. Veruca was never good with comforting people, her method was laughter and she never thought to use it after a death. She let out a soft sigh as she moved from the bed to the pitch-black bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Grimacing at the sight of the dingy shower, Veruca faced the sink, skeptically moving herself back as she turned the glass handle. One time she woke up to a snake in the faucet while doing a case in Texas. Scared the bejesus out of her while Makena laughed at the absurdity of the situation. Still, she didn't want to take any chances. Now they were tracking a witch case in Tennessee that led them to Huntingdon. It’s a quaint little town, but there was an ominous density in the air that sent chills down your spine. It just didn’t feel right.

Veruca splashed the seemingly clean water on her face, the brisk chill felt more like a slap on the face than a cool rush. She took a peek at herself while drying off and caught a glimpse of something dark in the corner of the mirror. Startled, she backed up against the door, clutching the damp towel close to her chest, adrenaline seized her heart. She expected to see the same tall tormentor, with his regular sadistic smirk. He’d snap his fingers and reveal the wall of maggots she was pressed up against or flood the room until she woke up gasping for air. But nothing was there, just her and her ragged breathing filling the air. Slumped against the door, she let  her head fall with a thump on the cheap wood; she felt like crying. A soft knock came from outside the door made her jump.

“Vee?” Makena’s accent was thickest when she was goggy.

Veruca didn't answer.

“Vee, what are you doing up?” She sounded irritated, “It’s nearly four in the morning.” she whined. The metal doorknob turned and Veruca fell with a hard thud, onto the gravy colored carpet. Makena backed up, her right hand cupped over her mouth; suppressing a laugh. Veruca groaned as pulled herself off the ground. Her face grew warm with embarrassment. Makena’s brow knitted as she walked away, pulling a new set of clean clothes out of her dufflebag. Slipping her grey tank-top off as Makena crossed her arms; her loose t-shirt folded under the pressure.

“Are we ever going to talk about this?”

“What’s there to talk about, I’m fine.”

“Yes, I can tell.” Makena gestures to the sweat soaked sheets.

“Makena, I’m **fine** .” annoyance clear in Veruca’s voice. Eyes locked with Makena’s, deep blue-pools pleaded her to drop it. Makena scoffed, shaking her head as she slammed the bathroom door behind her. Veruca couldn’t tell her. What would she say, _Sorry, Satan likes to hogs the sheets_ ?  She sighed, _Not a chance._

Veruca scrunched up her nose at the stale smell of the room as she pulled her faded cherry-red leather jacket over her shoulders. The sound of the shower head spitting on tile was muffled by the door, _sorry_ , Veruca glanced at the bathroom door as she left the motel room.

Outside the unusually cool air prickled against Veruca’s skin as the trees swayed, mimicking the sound of ocean waves; their shadows made her uneasy. They moved slower than should, like time slowed down. Shaking her head she thought, _I should eat, I’m getting loopy_. Thinking about the pizza place they saw on their drive to the motel made her stomach growl but it wouldn’t be open with the moon high in the sky. Pulling her jacket closed, she made her way to the car, shuffling through her keys before looking up. Her breath hitched when she saw the red glint of his eyes and that familiar wolfish grin.

 

Veruca rushed to get into her car, jumping in with a hard smack of the door that sent the old Toyota rocking back and forth. Jamming the key in the ignition, she looked back and he was gone. She hardly noticed how hard she was breathing, her heart drumming through her ribcage. Taking a deep breath as she rested her head against the steering wheel, she could feel a sob bubbling in her throat. She just wanted it all to stop but she was tired of pleading the universe to give her a break. Running a hand through her knotted hair as she leaned back, Veruca looked wanly at the rosary that swayed from the rear view mirror; the way the light reflected off of Jesus’s grim expression seemed to pity her. Starting the engine, she drove out of the parking lot.

Veruca drove until her vision was blurred by frustrated tears. The windows were rolled down, the cool breeze calmed her down a bit as the hum of cicadas were drowned out by Cherry Waves whispering out of her stereo. When she passed Chet’s Pizza, static abruptly blared through the stereo, giving her a mini-heart attack as she pulled over and floundered to turn it off. She started sniffling and wiped the cool tears pooled at her chin, her back slapped against the leather seats. Veruca flinched when his voice started out of thin air.

“You know,” Lucifer sat in the passenger seat with a folded map in his hands, his fingers trailed red lines, “you can’t run from me.” his gaze rises to meet her’s with that signature mischievous glint in his eyes.

“This isn’t real,” Veruca shut her eyes, gripping the steering wheel until her knuckles blossomed white, “you aren’t real.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” He leaned over getting close enough that she could feel his cold breath grazing her, “are you sure about that?”

**Author's Note:**

> This besides one other document, was the only completed work that I did on My OC. But I am proud of the Original work, even though I cannot share it.


End file.
